


Haircut

by DragonHeartstring360



Series: Supernatural Imagines [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Haircuts, Sam's an awkward puppy, not my best work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHeartstring360/pseuds/DragonHeartstring360
Summary: Sam can’t seem to concentrate on anything except Y/N’s new haircut, a little to his detriment.





	Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Sam x Reader  
> Warnings: canon-level violence; post-hunt grossness; swearing; fluff  
> A/N: The reader’s described a little specifically insofar as she used to have long hair (down past her chest) and chops a good portion of it off (to shoulder-length) and also doesn’t like makeup, so sorry if that’s something that throws you off. Thanks for the read! You can follow me for updates and requests at my Tumblr, @were-all-idjits-here. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

You let your duffel fall from your shoulder with a thud, sighing as you took in the bunker. You were home. Thank _God_. The hunt had been successful, but messy as hell. Dean had opted for going straight back to the bunker, since it wasn’t that far of a drive. But it had been far enough for you to feel how disgusting you were. Covered with dirt, blood and… some sort of goop. You didn’t even want to _know_ what that was.

“Come on, stinky,” Dean muttered as he trudged past you down the stairs. “You need to shower.”

“Oh, because _you’re_ so clean,” you retorted.

“I’m not the one with hair past my boobs that currently looks like a shifter smeared it’s poop all over it.”

“You’re right—you just naturally look like poop all the time.”

Dean turned to give you a flat stare at the bottom of the staircase. “Ha, ha, poop-hair. At least I’ll be able to get the gunk out easier than _you_.” He pointed to his own short, dirty hair.

“Leave her alone, Dean,” Sam finally stepped through the doorway behind you, closing it with a _boom_.

“Yeah, you don’t look much better, Sammy.”

Sam sighed, carefully reaching a hand to feel the back of his hair. The same gunk that covered you and Dean had also gotten all over Sam—and his hair. You couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated; you always got something gross in your hair during practically every hunt, even when you had your hair in a ponytail or a bun like you had this last time. Sam, on the other hand, somehow _never_ got things in his hair. You bit your lip to hide a smile. Finally, _justice_.

“Well, I’m hitting the shower and then gettin’ a beer.” Dean trudged off down the hall, leaving you and his younger brother alone.

Before you could protest, Sam lifted your duffel bag onto his free shoulder.

“I can get that—” you began.

“No, really, it’s—” he interrupted.

He tried to start down the stairs at the same time you moved around to take your bag from him. You bumped chests awkwardly, pressed up against each other for a brief moment. You could feel the heat rise to your face as you took a large step back. Probably _too_ large. Unfortunately, gunk from Sam’s jacket had attached itself to yours and now a large string of goop connected the two of you. You stared at it in disgust, meeting Sam’s eyes to see him doing the same. You stared at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“What the hell even is this shit?” you huffed out between laughs.

“I don’t think I wanna know,” Sam chuckled. He stared at you for a moment with an expression you weren’t sure you could identify—it almost looked… _dreamy_. But why would he look at you like that? There’s no way he would like you back. You’d seen pictures of Jess, you saw the girls that hit on him when he played FBI agent or at a bar. You looked nothing like them. You had all sorts of imperfections that those girls didn’t have. Or they just covered it up with makeup. But hair and makeup were never your thing. That was half the reason why your hair was as long as it was: it was so thick, that the length kept it heavy enough that you didn’t have to do much to it after you woke up or got out of the shower. Whenever you wore makeup, you just felt you looked like an alien. You felt like you were drawing too much attention to yourself, something you hated doing.

“Well, um…” You cleared your throat. “I’m gonna go shower, so…”

“Yeah, we should shower,” Sam agreed. His face froze in horror as he quickly added, “I mean, separately! Not together, obviously…” He dissolved into nervous laughter and scratched the back of his neck. His nose scrunched up in disgust as it made a _squelch_ sound and he pulled his hand away to find more grime and goop. He glanced nervously at the string of goop that still connected the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. Sam was one of the bravest people you knew, but when it came to anything gross, he backed down completely. You were already disgusting. Why not add more? You karate-chopped the string of goop, twisting your mouth as half of it attached to your jacket sleeve and the other half clung to Sam’s shirt. Pity; you thought that color looked great on him.

You scurried down the stairs and Sam followed, still insisting on carrying your bag. He carefully set it down on the floor of your bedroom as you grabbed some clean clothes. You mumbled a shy thanks and he nodded before slipping out of the room.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a fresh and clean Dean said as you passed him on the way to the showers.

You rolled your eyes and continued to the shower. It took much longer than usual, especially washing your hair. Once you were done, you examined your wet hair in the bathroom mirror. Maybe Dean was right… You _were_ always getting gunk it. Whenever it was down, it was constantly in your way; buns gave you headaches and they always sagged down the back of your head within minutes, no matter how many hairbands or bobby pins you used; ponytails gave you even worse headaches and your hair was so long that it _still_ got in the way, even then. It was becoming a bit of a hassle. Besides, it tangled easily and you had plenty of dead ends. Your aunt had been a hairdresser and had let you practice on some wigs she had. You’d gotten surprisingly good at it and had given yourself haircuts before. There weren’t anything extravagant, but they were even and they got the job done. You chewed on your lip for a moment. You’d always had long hair, ever since you met the boys. If you cut off as much as you were thinking about, what would they think? What would _Sam_ think? What if he didn’t like you with short hair?

You took a breath before your bravery was lost and grabbed the scissors.

* * *

 

You hesitantly made your way down the hall, peeking into the kitchen. The brothers sat across from you, eating hamburgers and drinking beer. Sam’s back was to you and they were talking about something you couldn’t hear. You stepped back into the shadow of the hall, fidgeting with your hoodie sleeve. You thought you’d done a surprisingly good job and actually kind of loved your new haircut. You’d aimed for shoulder-length, but were afraid you’d cut too high, so it more brushed your collarbones. In a moment of bravery, you’d given even yourself a few layers that turned out better than you could’ve hoped for and trimmed the bangs you pushed off to the side. But still…what would the Winchesters’ reactions be?

Your stomach rumbled and you took a deep breath before making your way around the corner as quietly as you could. You sort of hoped they wouldn’t notice.

“Wow, Y/N/N!” Dean exclaimed before you’d even made it to the fridge. Well, so much for that. “When did that happen?”

You turned nervously to see Dean pointing to your hair. Dean looked impressed while Sam merely gawked. You decided to focus on Dean instead. “Well, it was just bugging me and getting in the way, so…” You shrugged.

“Did you do that yourself?” Sam asked, his expression still unreadable.

You nodded.

“Ya look great, kid.” Dean leaned over and ruffled your hair. “You did a good job, too. Maybe you should cut Sammy’s hair.”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed around a mouthful of burger.

You chuckled as Dean pointed out the burger he’d left on the stove for you. You hesitantly sat next to him, catching Sam staring at you more than once. He quickly looked away each time and sat at the table much longer than he needed to, grasping at straws to find something to talk to Dean about. Unsure what to make of it, you finished your burger, put the plate in the dishwasher and made your way out of the kitchen.

* * *

 

“SAM!” Dean barked. “Would you pay attention?”

“Sorry!” Sam rushed over to pull the snarling vampire off his brother and throw him to the ground. The machete whistled through the air and the creature’s head rolled over by where you were standing. Sam watched as you decapitated a vampire with ease, his chest constricting when the last two made to pounce on you. The first flung a hand wildly, trying to scratch you with its nails. You ducked, resulting in him scratching the second vamp across the face instead. You straightened up and kicked the first vampire hard enough to knock the wind out of him and he fell to the ground. You turned, decapitated the second vamp as he clutched his bleeding face, before making short work of the first. Your now short ponytail swung behind you as you moved. Sam missed your long hair, but the short cut looked amazing, framing your face perfectly. Your hair was also thick enough that, now that it was short, it had a ton of volume that most women would kill for. He wasn’t sure what woman _wouldn’t_ kill for everything about you.

“Are you guys okay?” you asked, taking slow, tired steps over to the brothers.

“Yeah, no thanks to this doofus,” Dean jerked a thumb at his brother.

Sam sighed. “I said I was sorry. I was just…” He faltered as he tried to find an excuse.

“You were just distracted ’cause you were too busy staring at Y/N!” Dean barked. “I’m getting sick of you two dancing around each other.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “I need a shower, a beer and a beautiful woman, so if you two are done making _doe eyes_ , I’d love to get back to the motel.” He turned and marched back towards the Impala.

Sam stared at his feet, shuffling them against the barn floor. He glanced up hesitantly to find you shyly staring at him from under your bangs.

“Um, so…” Sam cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe, while Dean goes to the bar, do you… Do you wanna, maybe, go on a date…with me?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah.”

The two of you trudged back to the Impala with dumb grins on your faces, Dean rolling his eyes at you the whole way back.


End file.
